The Night
by TheDemonicSylvia
Summary: All alone in the world, Viola takes shelter in a forest and from an unexpected encounter learns all she had ever hoped to learn about herself. My first fic in a very LONG time, but nevertheless, please enjoy.


The sky was immeasurably murky. All was silent, calm.

A woman, outwardly in her early thirties, was sitting quietly atop a flat rock, gazing into what seemed to be a mystical floating orb radiating a soft, beautiful purple hue. Her eyes shone with curiosity. On this still and cool night, in the midst of a vast and bountiful green forest with naught but the moonlight guiding lost souls wherever they may be, the woman, who had been chased away from a village after a most odious incident, in which she desperately fought to escape the thuggish hold of the livid people, her clothes left in complete tatters, decided to remain hidden from human eyes, and instead she had cast herself away from all. She never did feel as though she belonged in such a world where those who seek their fortune or desire to learn their distant (and oft ill-fated) future would banish her and hate her for what she does.

…For who she is.

"Tonight…the moon is red…red like wine," murmured Viola.

She sat there for a long time. Perhaps dawn was near breaking, or perhaps it was still the gloomy hours of midnight. She could not tell. However, time did not matter to her, not now, not anymore. She was alone, all alone in this grand and empty forest, far, far, away from people and all. She sought naught but solitude in this most heinous of nights.

While her visage was fixed to a neutral, cold and unforgiving stare, deep down she was sad. She was sad because all that night she could hear naught but the macabre, mournful cries of souls.

"Victims of Soul Edge…" she said. "Those poor fools…falling for its sick, twisted lure."

Then suddenly a chill crept up her back. The alabaster skin of her cheeks now rosy, she lifted her piercing gaze and looked all about her, gasping with fright. She sensed something evil approaching; but somehow, this evil was accompanied with sorrow, a longing of sorts.

Viola couldn't understand.

"Who's there?" breathed she, aggression clearly in her tone. She was ready to fight anything.

Her dark, cold yet ever so soulful eyes beheld the sight of a man emerging from the mysterious shadows of the night, clad in frayed clothing as well. Then as soon as he appeared he collapsed right in front of her.

She was never the type to worry for others, but for some odd reason the appearance of this man rather intrigued her. She felt attached to him. Without giving it another thought she rushed to his side and after analyzing his frame she began to tend to his wounds. He had been stabbed and shot numerous times. It was a surprise he could even walk in his state.

An old owl hooted before taking off to the boundless sky. By the soft crackling fire sat Viola, her back leaning against a pine tree. She observed the now slumbering man, his face wearing a peaceful look. His attire told her he was probably of aristocratic background, but strange…It was decorated in what appeared to be bats brooches.

Viola couldn't understand.

Why should they meet like this? Here? Now? Was it fate devised by a grand deity of fates? Perhaps…but because she had never felt this way before she was left utterly, hopelessly confused, like a child who has never had their ceaseless questions answered. She calmly sighed and closed her eyes and tried to think about her past. Her memories…They were long-gone. She could never manage to attain them. The orb never did help…

"Stupid…" she murmured, opening her eyes once more. No visions of her unknown past ever came to her. It always frustrated her that whenever it happened that she should look into the secret lives of others, of nasty, despicable people, she would have no trouble doing so, but remembering her own past? Now _that_ proved to be a much more difficult challenge.

Regardless, it did her no good to simply sulk in her own worries. So she cast her gaze to the sleeping man once again. His wounds all bandaged up, she surmised he would be in good health in a matter of days. He was quite fortunate.

For a long time she stared at him. She knew.

Malfested he was, just like her.

But there was something peculiar she sensed within him. Though his soul corrupted, it was also full of melancholic desires. His mind was brimming with memories, both good and bad.

In his memories Viola perceived him a tall and handsome man, his dominant yet gentle gaze hidden under the delicate shadow of his blonde hair, and beside him stood a red-haired child, face aglow with love and innocence. The two were smiling, happy to be together, to be a…family.

And as if he could feel her intense, unwavering gaze on him he let out a guttural groan, eyes slowly opening, and with one hand on his forehead he commenced sitting up, but finding that he couldn't because of an annoying pain in his back he remained still, and turning his head he looked at Viola.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "Tell me where I am."

Viola said nothing, her gaze on him dark and indifferent.

"Do you not know how to speak? Tell me now; do not toy with me," he told her.

Still she said nothing, offering the strange man no mercy from her incessant staring. Now he was beginning to get very annoyed.

"You vex me. Who are you, woman? Damn it, stop looking into my soul!"

At that moment Viola at last spoke. "I do not mean to trouble you. It's just…There is something about you…I feel I have known you from somewhere…From…another time."

"Oh, is that so? Well then, care to tell me what I'm doing in a place like this? Just who are you?" asked the perplexed man. He then noticed how his wounds were all finely bandaged up. He remembered that he had previously been fighting some soldiers; but he lost the fight. It annoyed him to have lost, leaving him no choice but to flee. His pride hurt more than his injuries.

"Ah, so I see you have helped me. I give you my sincerest thanks," he said.

This time Viola stayed silent. She continued to stare at him. But after a while she turned her gaze to the small fire.

"Now, tell me who you are," demanded the man.

"I am but a nomad; I am a seer. I am called Viola," answered the woman. The man didn't really care for her trivial words, thinking to get up and take his leave from her entirely and never cross paths with her again, but upon taking a closer look at her features he noticed something unusual about her. She possessed a look that seemed so very familiar to him, such an aloof and cold look. Her curls white, her eyes a beautiful red tint, she seemed like a dream to him. And yet somehow he felt he had, too, known her from somewhere…

No, it couldn't be. Perhaps it was mere coincidence.

"I am Raphael Sorel. For a long time now I have been on a quest. I am looking for someone very precious to me," explained Raphael. He lowered his head but immediately lifted his eyes to her again. He couldn't help but doing so. "Strange, but when I take a good look at you, I remember my beloved daughter."

"Daughter…?" asked Viola, looking at him.

"Yes. Her name is Amy Sorel. Perhaps…?" Raphael's voice then took an eager tone. "Have you possibly heard of her? If you have any information on her—"

"No, I have none. I know nothing of your daughter," was Viola's curt remark. The Frenchman didn't like that tone of hers but he ignored it. And the two fell to silence.

For a long time they remained quiet, rather shy of one another. The air about them was a mysterious one, carrying an essence of foreboding and grief. But why was it so? They have never met until now, on this most eerie and lonesome of nights, so why should they feel as if a hiatus between them had long existed? As if many a year had gone by them? Why did Viola now, for the first time in her whole life, feel the torrent of maddening sorrow that had long been trapped in her own soul hit her? It hit her over and over, over and over until she simply couldn't take it. She gave an anguished sigh.

"It's all…pointless!"

Raphael, who had been keeping to himself all this time, to his own dismal thoughts, heard her.

"What do you mean?" Though he was never the one to care for others he strangely found himself concerned for her, for this…mysteriously familiar woman.

"It's…It's nothing. Forget it," said she in a hushed voice, looking up at the full moon hovering just above them. "The moon…shall fall. It shall fall and never rise. It shall fall and all will be gone with it."

Raphael was confused by her philosophy. In fact those who would hear her oft would be, but behind her riddles there was meaning, significant or not. Viola knew none could understand her. She felt so lost to the world. None could ever understand her. No one…

"Do you mean to say…that you are lost? That a tragedy has befallen you?"

"W-what?" It was not by sheer astonishment that she uttered this, but by sheer terror. She set her deep red eyes to him, to this weird yet intriguing man, once more and saw pure love in his tainted soul. How could there be love in such an evil maelstrom of a soul, that deeply-infected soul of his? His soul…It practically spewed the evil essence of Soul Edge! And yet he still had room in that putrid soul of his for something as hallowed as love?

Viola just couldn't understand.

"…Why did you love this girl so?" she then asked. It caught Raphael completely off guard.

"You mean Amy?" His face then slowly twisted into regret and resentment. "How dare you ask me such a thing! You speak of her as though she were some kind of puppet, as though she served no further purpose to me and I just gave up on her! Damn you, wretched woman!"

But after having a minute to calm himself down, Raphael continued on a more gentler, fatherly tone. "She means everything to me. I will stop at nothing to have her back. To me, she is like an angel who deserves nothing but the best." He paused, blinking through half-lidded eyes. "…I _have_ tried…Countless times I have tried to give her nothing but the best; I have tried to give her the entire world. I would give anything just to see her smile again. Her smile…It's more beautiful than the most precious of emeralds."

Without saying a word, Viola looked up at the moon. After a while she spoke.

"In the moon, I see everything. I see darkness in the moon. It…It's frightening." And indeed it scared her, that darkness. Many a night she dreamt of that darkness engulfing her fully and no longer would she just be malfested, but…she would _be_ that darkness.

It was Raphael's turn to be silent this time for he only passed her a cold look before lowering his head.

"…What's it like? To…to have a family?" she suddenly asked, softly and sadly, without ever looking at him.

Caught off guard twice. Raphael was beginning to wonder more about her true intentions. But despite his suspicions of her he could now feel naught but pity for her. She truly seemed pathetic, but it did rather touch him to hear such a thing come from her.

"Amy is the only family I have. She is_ all_ I have. And…when I'm with her, it just…It feels wonderful…" he said, but he found describing the feeling painfully trying, not because he knew not the right words, but because he _knew_ the right words, and his eyes all at once became teary.

Upon sensing his heartfelt sadness, without ever the need of looking at him or his stained soul, Viola's own eyes became teary and instinctively she gave a hurried and clumsy sob.

All at once the two wept, the calm of the night disturbed. The small fire sputtered and hissed.

The night was an eternal one. Feeling these bitter tears endlessly roll down her cheeks, Viola began to feel this night would forever remain with her. The sun would never rise again. For as long as she remained in this grand and empty forest, crying softly, the night would come to no end.

From his memories, from his soul…Viola at last understood.

In her dream she could see this caring man, this Raphael…holding that little red-haired child in his arms, crooning to her, lulling her to sweet sleep, and Viola, who had never once knew the significance of love, felt that little girl's love for her father.

"_Je t'aime, ma petite papillon."_

And when she at last understood, he was gone.

When she had woken up after crying, hopelessly crying to the night which provided her no solace, no guidance, no…love, he was gone.

He had left without a word, without ever saying goodbye.

Viola looked into her orb, then at the moon. She outlined the faintest, yet sweetest, of smiles.

"…I love you, too," whispered she into the cool, misty air.


End file.
